


Knocked Up Too

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: I Guess You'd Say That We Both Got Screwed [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Mpreg, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Preacher John Winchester, Pregnant Castiel, Pregnant Sam, Romance, bottom!Castiel, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 16:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11855085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: 18-year-old Castiel Shurley and 22-year-old Dean Winchester hate each other. At least, that's what everyone believes.When Dean decides to crash one of Cas and Sam's "sleepovers" he not only finds that Sam isnotthere, he and Cas end up finding that they may not dislike each other as much as even they believed.[Sequel/Companion to "Knocked Up" - can be read alone]





	1. Chapter 1

Dean finished at the garage late one Friday night. It was the same Friday night that his younger brother, Sammy, was staying with his best friend, Castiel Shurley. He was tempted to go over and crash their little “pyjama party” just to rile the two eighteen-year-olds up. He got into his car, a supremely well maintained 67 Chevy Impala – If it hadn’t been for the one time some jackass trucker ran a red light and basically totalled the old girl, she’d still have most of her original coat of paint. Her frame had, mercifully, still been intact, and Dean had lovingly rebuilt his beloved car.

As he drove through the recently plowed streets, he reconsidered crashing the “sleepover”. At the very least, he could make sure the two high schoolers had everything they needed in case the snow picked up again or the power went out. He didn’t trust the middle Shurley brother’s crappy Continental to be able to make it through the snow safely if it started coming down again.

If asked, he’d say he was just attempting to get the two youths to have a little fun, Dean Winchester style.

He could already imagine the pinched look the stuck up, blue-eyed brunet would aim at him. Dean sometimes wondered how the two could be friends. However, despite the monumental stick that was lodged up his ass, Castiel did have one redeeming feature: his was a loyal friend to Sam.

As they’d transitioned into their teen years, a lot of Sam’s childhood friends had drifted into different friend groups. Despite being bookish and a little on the quiet side, Sam didn’t have trouble making friends, but the only one that really stuck around for the long haul was Castiel. While the preppy dork grated at Dean, he could at least respect his loyalty.

He maneuvered his car through the mostly empty streets until he arrived at the familiar house of Dr. Chuck Shurley and his wife, Rebecca – the latter of whom he had spent more time that he cared to admit being sent to talk to when he had still been in high school. The counselor had helped him come to terms with it being okay for him to not perform well inside a school setting. At fifteen, he’d dropped out of school and, with her help, had finished his education via mostly self-paced home schooling. He’d actually excelled when removed from formal schooling, able to learn easier when left mostly to his own devices. He managed to obtain a GED a year earlier than he would have graduated. The flexible schedule he’d ended up with actually allowed him added time to focus on his passion: mechanics. His grandmother, Millie Winchester, had been a mechanic in the Marine Corps Women’s Reserve (having just turned twenty in 1943) and the tiny woman taught Dean everything he knew about engines before she’d died in mid-2000 at age seventy-seven. His grandmother had lived just long enough to see him open his own garage (Winchester Auto Body). Both she and Rebecca were exceedingly proud of him.

He pulled up to the house, taking the parking space usually reserved for Rebecca’s SUV – the Shurley parents were currently out of town with their youngest son for some hockey tournament or something. The porch light turned on as he came up the front steps. He raised his hand to knock and almost overbalanced when the door swung open before his knuckles could connect with the painted wood.

“Hello, Dean,” the gravelly monotone of Castiel Shurley greeted… Perhaps “greet” was too strong a word. Dude already looked exasperated with him. This was going to be easier than he thought.

* * *

Castiel cursed when he heard the telltale sound of Dean Winchester’s precious Impala. He swore, the man had an unhealthy obsession with that machine. Cas had once accidentally scratched the paint when he’d slipped on ice and grabbed onto the back of the car to prevent himself from hitting the ground. He still remembered the way Dean had shouted “Dammit, Cas!” before telling him to “hurry up and get in already”. This had led to one of their usual heated arguments.

Cas also remembered when Dean’s car had been struck at an intersection just two years earlier. The then twenty-year-old man had been more concerned with the state of his vehicle than with the state of himself. At one point, Castiel had yelled at him that he was “lucky to even be alive, so who cared about the damned car?” quite loudly. _That_ argument had been pretty spectacular and had resulted in the two not even looking at each other for three months.

Cas would never admit it, but that had been an emotionally difficult three months. He still couldn’t figure out why. Not having to deal with the elder Winchester brother’s childish antics for any stretch of time was a blessing in and of itself. His friend, Anna, had commented on his attitude during that time, caustically pointing out that at least he was able to vent his frustrations out on Dean when they were interacting. It appeared that Dean was correct in his assessment of him “putting the ‘ass’ in ‘Cass’”. Meg had smirked and suggested he had a crush. He’d scoffed at that and resolutely refused to humor her for the rest of the day – he’d almost made it an entire week, but he had a soft spot for the snarky girl who was more like a sister to him than his actual sisters.

He had been watching a documentary on Discovery about the Valley of the Kings when his ears had picked up the roaring sound of “Baby’s” engine. A quick peek out of the living room window confirmed it. Of all times for Dean Winchester to decide to screw with them… He took a calming breath and opened the door as the man was about to knock. It amused him to see the normally smooth man thrown off kilter when his hand met nothing but air. Castiel just barely managed to keep his smirk in check.

“Hello, Dean,” he greeted. The older man regained his equilibrium quickly.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean flashed what he probably thought was a charming smile. “How’s the slumber party?” he asked as he brushed past Castiel, looking around. “You two girls get to the pillow fighting yet? Or are you still on the braiding Sam’s hair and painting each other’s nails stage?”

* * *

Dean smirked as the younger man bristled at his comments. Or maybe that had to do with the way he’d barged in. Either way, a thrill washed through him at seeing those baby-blues aimed at him, glowing with righteous indignation.

“Hey Sammy, what d’you say you wash off that beauty mask and we all go see that new Rob Schneider flick that just came in?” He turned away and left Cas standing in the foyer alone. “Sammy?”

The living room was empty. Some Egyptian looking show on the Discovery Channel was playing on the television, volume on low.

“Dean.” Cas, who had followed him, sounded annoyed. Dean ignored him.

He went back to the foyer and called up the stairs. “Sammy! Come on, Bitch. Answer me.”

_“Dean.”_

“Where’s Sammy?” he spun around so fast that Castiel, who had still been following, stopped just short of walking into him.

“I—“

“ _Cas_. I’m only going to ask _one_ more time. Where. Is. He?”

Castiel huffed and glared. Hard.

* * *

“It’s always the same with you, isn’t it?” Castiel spat. “You come storming in and just expect everyone to fall in line behind you like good little soldiers.”

“Oh, that’s rich. Coming from the guy who demands everyone around him reassess their lifestyles and conform to the one _you_ approve of,” Dean shot back.

“First of all,” Cas’ voice began to raise. “Making eco-friendly choices benefits _everyone_.” He stepped forward, getting into Dean’s personal space. “And second—“

“Nobody cares about your little campaigns to save the whales or whatever.”

“It was _polar bears!_ ” he shouted.

“It was _stupid!_ ” Dean shouted back.

“Ugh, get _out!_ ” Cas pushed against Dean’s chest with both hands in an effort to physically move the muscular mechanic towards the front door. Dean grabbed onto his wrists, holding them steady in his calloused hands, trapping them against him. Trapping Castiel close.

They looked at each other. Eyes burning in anger, pupils dilated, and breathing hard. The smell of motor oil that clung to Dean like musk surrounded them, assaulting Castiel’s senses, intoxicating him. Castiel’s hot breath ghosted Dean’s lips.

Their muffled moans sounded loud in the quiet foyer. Castiel was pinned against the wall beside the archway to the living room, one leg hitched up around Dean’s waist. His left hand tangled in Dean’s short hair, right hand gripping Dean’s bicep, as Dean’s hands squeezed his ass. Their cocks were half hard as they ground against each other.

As suddenly as it started, Cas found himself sliding down the wall, landing on his butt in a thump as the door slammed shut. Dean bolted to his car, taking off down the street as quickly as the slippery weather allowed.

Cas sat on the floor panting, heart racing, and body vibrating. Unsure of what just happened, and a sudden and strange sense of abandonment seeping into him.

* * *

Dean gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. What the actual fuck had just happened? One second they were arguing, as they usually do when improperly supervised, and the next… the next they were three steps from fucking against the foyer wall. What the shit?

Without realizing where he was going, Dean had pulled into the parking lot of his father’s church. While not personally overly religious, he did take comfort in the physical space of the church itself. He sat in his car, staring up at the building he’d spent every Sunday of his life in – and the majority of several summers helping with youth groups growing up. He sat there long enough for the winter chill to creep into the cooling car. Thinking.

Thinking of Castiel.

He remembered that day on the primary school playground when he’d accidentally bowled the tiny six-year-old over. He’d been so focused on catching the football his friend Benny had thrown that he hadn’t seen the kid with the giant insect book until they’d already crashed into each other. He’d been a cute kid. Big blue eyes and an adorable little pout. That was the first time they’d fought. Castiel had won. Mostly due to the fact that the younger boy’s vocabulary had surprised Dean so much.

They always fought, the two of them. More often than not, they ended up yelling at each other.

Well… not _always_. There _had_ been some pleasant memories. Sort of.

Once, when Castiel was nine, he’d fallen and skinned his knee pretty bad. Along with both palms and half of the back of his left arm. He’d been running and tripped on an uneven patch of cement outside of the Winchester’s house. When Sam had asked if he was okay, he’d responded with “I don’t know, how do I look?”. Truthfully, he’d looked a bit like roadkill with the amount of bloody scrapes he had on him. Dean, thirteen at the time, had helped him inside and cleaned and bandaged his wounds. He’d been impressed. It’d been a spectacular wipeout and the kid didn’t even hint at crying.

Dean sighed harshly and got out of the car, a nervous energy vibrating under his skin that he needed to walk off.

His foot skidded on a patch of ice. He randomly recalled a moment when Sam and Cas had been getting into the Impala and Cas had come close to landing on his ass. His hand on the Impala’s trunk had been the only thing preventing him from hitting the ground. As much as he accused Dean of being clumsy, Castiel was fairly accident prone. The hypocrisy exasperated Dean to no end. He sort of remembered snapping at Cas to hurry. The street was busy and the last thing he wanted was for the younger boy to tumble into oncoming traffic.

Dean huffed and kicked the side of a pile of snow that had built up when the plow had come by. Thinking of traffic accidents, he remembered how tetchy the boy had been after Dean’s. For a while, it was like any little thing would set him off. Dean still isn’t completely sure how that particular fight had started, but it was definitely their bitterest to date. For three months afterwards, Dean couldn’t think straight for more than a few minutes at a time. He’d lost his temper with four clients when he’d finally gone back to work, and had ended up taking a sledge hammer to Baby’s windows and doors… and even her trunk.

After three months of not even acknowledging the other existed, Dean had received a phone call in the middle of the night. A drunken phone call. Castiel had attended a party with the Masters sisters and had partaken – Castiel’s word – in a little too much of the fruit punch, which, he informed Dean, had been spiked. “However, the reason I called was not to talk about the punch.” Even drunk, Cas sounded like he was attending a formal luncheon. There were some college guys at the party and they’d been “disinclined to take no for an answer”. For the first time, Dean was grateful that Castiel’s parents had given him one of those new cell phones – and that Sam had given him Dean’s home number. Cas probably doesn’t remember much of what happened that night, if anything at all. he was pretty sure there had been a little bit more than alcohol in one of those cups Cas’d been drinking. Despite the sideways looks he gave when he woke up on Dean’s couch with a hangover, he didn’t ask about Dean’s bruised and bandaged knuckles. Dean has, so far, been pretty good at not questioning the rage that had burned in his chest at the sight of those two asshats with their lips on Cas’ neck. If he’s honest with himself, which he never is, if they’d gotten any further than groping, they’d’ve probably never been able to walk again.

* * *

Cas sat on the floor, unsure what to make of the emotions swirling inside him. This was crazy. There was no way Dean Winchester, of all people, had just come in and kissed him. Okay, maybe he hadn’t actually come in with that intention, but it’s what had ended up happening. Wait! _No_. It _didn’t_ happen because it was completely crazy!

He shook his head, pushed himself off the floor, and went up to his room in a daze. Not because of the kiss that didn’t happen. He was just tired. Yeah, that was it. He was sleepy and had dreamt up the whole thing… because of that weird documentary… not because he wanted to kiss Dean Winchester… because he didn’t… He tripped on a stair, face heating up.

This was ridiculous.

Castiel flopped backwards onto his bed with a sigh that was totally not dreamily in any way. Not at all. Maybe.

He thought about the way Dean’s hair had felt in his hands. The heat from the man’s body as it pressed against his own. The taste of his mouth as they attempted to devour each other. He blushed as he remembered the sensation of Dean’s growing erection rubbing against his. Heat pooled in his belly, blood rushing to the vicinity of his crotch the more he thought about Dean’s arousal, his muscular body pressing against him…

He shook his head, the sting of rejection cooling the heat as quickly as it started. No. Dean didn’t want him. He _couldn’t_. Cas was just a dorky little nerd that he’d sort of been nice to in high school and only really put up with for Sam’s sake. Well, maybe it wasn’t just that…

Castiel grabbed a pillow and curled around it, lying on his side.

When he and Sam had started high school in the eighth grade, Sam had no trouble making new friends right away. He was charismatic and interesting. Castiel was awkward and often quiet. Not like any of his siblings. Mainly Gabriel. He was invisible. To everyone but the bullies on the softball team. They’d zeroed in on him. Sam wasn’t ever with him when they targeted him. No one went after the captain of the wrestling team’s younger brother.

It was all pretty routine and cliché. Name calling, heckling, laughing and pointing when he walked by. He was tiny until he turned sixteen, so he got tossed into dumpsters a few times. Nothing he couldn’t handle. Until…

Castiel had been walking away from the gym on the opposite side of Sam’s science class for lunch when he suddenly became freezing cold and wet. His eyes were stinging horribly and there was a familiar laughter in his ears. Bartholomew and his lackeys. Cas sputtered, clearing his nose of the invading remnants of an orange slushy, wiping it off his face. Others were joining in on the mocking as humiliation built in his chest. The other stuff he could handle. They did it to a lot of kids. And they were stupid, in his opinion. But, standing in the hall with crushed ice and sticky syrup dripping from his hair, something in him was beginning to break.

“ _Hey!_ What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” A loud, _angry_ shout cut through the noise. Everyone around him got quiet and he could hear his tormentors’ footfalls scurrying away. He tried to blink the slushy out of his eyes, but that just made it burn worse. “C’mon, Cas.” The voice was gentle and right beside him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Dean.

The wrestling captain had steered him into the locker room and helped him out of his slushy soaked shirt before suggesting he take a shower to wash the sticky substance from his hair – it was his second of the day and he wasn’t looking forward to putting his sweaty gym shirt back on. To his surprise, Dean gave him _his_ spare shirt, thrusting it at Cas when the younger boy had finished his shower with only a “here, yours is gross”.

Two things happened after that: he wore a too big plaid flannel shirt for the rest of the day, and no one ever bullied him again.

Castiel sat up, leaning against his headboard, and hugged his knees. Dean wasn’t so indifferent to him as he claimed. He still remembered what happened two years ago to finally break the radio silence between them. Sort of. He remembered enough.

He had been so out of sorts at the time that he’d actually agreed to go to a party with Meg and her sister. He and Meg had been friends since ninth grade art. Her sister, Ruby, tolerated him just enough not to outright hate him. There were some college guys there and two of them had focused solely on him. Their attention had him flustered enough to indulge a little too much in the spiked punch. He was flattered, but they just weren’t his type.

Cas wasn’t a drinker. Somewhere around his fourth (or so, he lost track) cup of punch, things start to get hazy. He sort of remembers talking on his cellphone, and being uncomfortable, and a little bit of panic. He also remembers the scent of motor oil and leather, and a sense of safety and comfort. He _really_ remembers the pounding headache he woke up to, lying on Dean’s couch. Dean had set a glass of water and a couple aspirins on the coffee table with an apologetic look. Cas had groggily returned the look. Or, at least, he hoped he did.

The young man had let him sleep off the hangover a bit before driving him home. Dean didn’t bring up Cas getting recklessly drunk at a party. Cas didn’t bring attention to the beaten state of Dean’s knuckles.

They cared about each other more than they’d admit. _Dean_ cared. Any remaining heat left in him receded. He thought about how the man had just taken off. He hadn’t paused or said anything. He just… left.

Castiel was so confused.

Dean cared. They both did. But, why did he leave? Why did he…

Cas started when something warm gently brush his cheek. His eyes snapped open to meet the green-shaded gaze of the man in question. Dean was seated on the bed in front of him, his thumb wiping away tears he hadn’t realized were falling. The man cleared his throat. “Hey, Cas.”

“Dean. I… What ar—I, well.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean managed. “For earlier.” He dropped his hand and something dropped in Cas’ stomach with it. He regretted it. The not-kiss that definitely happened. He—“I shouldn’t have taken off like that. I just… I dunno.” Cas watched him rub the back of his neck and shrug, a bashful expression on his handsome face.

“You kissed me.”

Dean looked at him with a tiny frown. “I’m pretty sure _you_ kissed _me_.”

It was Castiel’s turn to frown. “And _I’m_ pretty sure it was _you_.”

“Well, _I_ think—“

“Oh for crying out loud, I don’t care what yo—“ He went to shove the man off his bed, resulting in a wrestling match which ended when Cas was pinned on his back with Dean’s larger body weighing him down. The two looked at each other, breathing heavily and glaring.

“Fuck, you’re hot when you’re mad,” Dean declared before pressing a hard, frustrated kiss to his lips. He hissed when Cas bit his lower lip.

“If this is just another way of you screwing around with me—“

“Sweetheart, if there’s anything I take completely seriously it’s sex and pie. And not together, I ain’t Jim Levenstein.”

“You really think you’re going to get that lucky?” Cas scoffed. He clamped his knees on either side of Dean’s his and gyrated his hips so that they ground against each other, completely contradicting himself. They bit back groans.

“You wish you were that lucky,” Dean scoffed back and sat up. “You wish you— _whoa_.” Castiel grabbed hold of Dean’s jacket and manhandled him until he was flat on his back. He sat astride him and ground down, their swiftly growing erections rubbing against one another through two layers of denim.

“Admit it, assbutt,” Cas breathed, kissing him noisily. “You want me more than you’ve ever wanted anyone before.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You horny little jackass. You’d like it if I fucked that tight little ass.” He squeezed said ass with both hands, grinding up into him and making the younger man moan.

“F-fuck, I want you,” Cas gasped, head falling back, exposing his neck.

Dean pushed himself to sitting and mouthed the smooth skin, grazing his teeth along the soft flesh, the barest hint of stubble on his own skin. He teased the skin just under the waistband of Castiel’s jeans. “Have you ever…?”

“No,” he panted, rubbing against Dean, enjoying the friction but yearning for more. “I-I. Dean…” He was whining in Dean’s ear. _“Please.”_

Dean hesitated. “Cas, are you sure?” He stopped his attention on Cas’ neck.

_“Dean.”_

“No, Cas, look at me.” Castiel complied, looking at him with impatience. “Do you really want this? With me?”

“Damn it, Dean, I know you care about me!”

“Yeah, Cas. I do. So I need to know. Do you honestly want this?”

“Dean, I’ve wanted this for years. I just didn’t realize it.” Cas tried to telepathically will Dean to understand. “When you were in that accident, it terrified me,” he admitted. “I thought I was going to lose you.” He laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, eyes stinging with the threat of tears as he remembered. “Dean I… _I need you_.”

Dean wrapped his arms around the teen and rolled them lie on the other side of the double bed so that he was on top, propped up on his elbows and boxing him in. “Cas. I…” He huffed a little. “I think you stole my line.”

Cas gently held Dean’s face in his hands. “Dean, you drive me crazy and there are times I believe that I hate you.”

“Romantic,” Dean deadpanned.

Cas rolled his eyes. “ _But_ , I’ve never wanted to be intimate with anyone as much as I want to right now. With you.”

Unsure of how to respond to that, aside from thinking that only Cas could make the prospect of sex and losing one’s virginity sound poetic without also sounding completely cheesy. He dove right in, intent on kissing the youth so thoroughly that no one else could hope to compare. He wasn’t great with words anyway.

A dizzying rush of tossed clothing, kissing, exploring hands, and teasing fingers later and Dean was scissoring two lubed fingers in Castiel’s ass, carefully stretching his virgin hole open with the strawberry scented Astroglide from the little red bottle he kept in his inside jacket pocket. He was loving the desperate little noises Cas was making, every so often he’d tease his prostate, eliciting a loud, low moan from those kiss-reddened lips. Loving how he squirmed and gripped the sheets in his fists.

He was just about to add a third when Cas shouted in as much frustration as arousal. “You can fuck me now!”

Dean huffed a laugh, slipping in the third finger. “Trust me, this is so much more than fucking, Sunshine.” He continued with his prep work and moved up to press a filthy kiss to his disgruntled lover’s mouth, silencing any further protests.

By the time he was satisfied Cas was ready for him, the teen was vibrating with need. Truthfully, Dean wasn’t in much better shape.

_“D-Dean.”_

“I know, baby, just gimmie a minute.” He took a breath to calm his nerves. Cas was so sexy, looking up at him with hooded, lust-blown eyes that Dean was actually close to coming like it was _his_ first time. He tore open the condom pack with his teeth and rolled it on.

“Dean, _please_.”

He leaned forward to capture Castiel’s lips one more time, making sure he was using enough lube, before finally, _finally_ sliding his thick cock into his young lover’s ass. They groaned in satisfaction as he sank up to his balls into the tight heat.

Dean smirked. “Awesome.”

Despite the distracting new sensations wracking his body, Castiel still managed to roll his eyes. It was a little uncomfortable as he wasn’t accustomed to the large intrusion, but a few rotations of Dean’s hips had him relaxing into the pleasure that was quickly taking over.

It wasn’t wild and rushed as Dean rocked into him. His thrusts controlled and steady. Dean was right. This wasn’t just fucking. It was one of those chick-flick moments that Dean professed to hate so much as they made love with the same intensity of passion they usually reserved for arguing.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gasped against his neck, desperately trying not to leave obvious marks on the smooth skin while the younger man’s nails raked down his back. “So good and tight. Just for me.” He rotated his hips, changing the angle just enough to tease Castiel’s prostate.

“Dean, _ah-hah!_ ”

“Fucking perfect. Does this feel good, Cas?” he breathed into Castiel’s ear. “Do you like it?”

“S-so good. _Dean_ ,” he gasped. Dean captured his mouth, muffling his moans as he ground into him. They continued, Cas’ legs wrapped securely around Dean’s waist, his body naturally responding to the continuous stimulation with Dean carrying on a litany of sweet, dirty nothings into his ear.

When he came, Castiel clung tightly to the muscular frame of his lover, nails digging into his skin and knees squeezing his hips, loudly moaning his name. Dean growled through his own release only seconds after.

They lay side by side after Dean had tied off the condom and tossed it in the wastebasket next to the bed and helped Cas wipe cooling semen off his torso.

“That,” Den panted, out of breath. “That was… holy shit.” He turned his head to look at Cas with a dopey grin on his face. Castiel trembled as the rush of his orgasm fully settled, suddenly overwhelmed. He turned his own head to catch Dean’s gaze and his lip trembled. “Hey,” Dean turned to him, alarmed. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

Cas shook his head. “N-no. I just—I…”

Dean’s expression turned to understanding. “C’mere.” He pulled Cas securely into his arms pressing tender kisses to his sweaty hair and forehead as Castiel clung to him and cried. “I know.”

They stayed wound around each other until Cas finally calmed and relaxed. Dean continued to hold him close, gently rubbing a hand along his arm, Castiel falling asleep with a soft smile on his face.

The next day, after a lazy morning in bed, they argued over which type of pizza to order for lunch and which channel to watch on television – Cas wanted to watch another documentary while Dean voted for the Monster Garage marathon. In the end, the television stayed on the Food Network and they made out on the couch. Later, Castiel got his way and they made use of the spare condom in Dean’s jacket. He moaned Dean’s name like a prayer while riding the man’s cock as he sat, kneeling, behind him. Dean held him, back pressed to chest, with one arm wrapped around his waist while the other teased his cock, jacking him off.

* * *

Sam was due back any moment and Castiel was preparing breakfast early Sunday morning. They were due at the church in under half an hour so they would have just enough time to eat before heading out. They were cutting it close. Classical Christmas music played on the stereo in the kitchen and, Dean was distracting him while he was trying to put bread in the toaster oven by trailing kisses down his neck and sliding hands under his favourite white and purple striped long-sleeved shirt.

He finally gave in once the timer was set and turned to face the cheeky asshole that had always made his heart pound in his chest for various reasons. Dean’s mouth was attached to his neck once more, hands groping his ass, when Cas heard the door open.

“Dammit,” he cursed and pushed against the older man’s chest. “Sam’s here. You have to go.”

“Crap,” Dean grabbed his jacket from the kitchen table before stealing another kiss.

“Mmph, go,” Cas grinned, pressing one last kiss before shoving him out. _“Go.”_ He quickly shut the door behind him and spun around at the same moment Sam came around the corner. “O-oh,” he jumped. That had been close. They’d mutually agreed to keep whatever it was between them secret. It was new, and still a little confusing. Whatever it was, they both wanted to figure it out.

He cleared his throat, the heat of a blush creeping up his face. Hopefully, the taller boy would simply believe he was startled.

They talked as they waited for the bacon to finish baking. Sam had obviously had a great time at the cabin with Gabriel. When Cas had pressed for details, Sam had joked about Castiel and Dean having some “private time” of their own. Cas froze. He forced himself to relax, brushing a hand down the front of his shirt to smooth any wrinkles from Dean’s roving hands. He eventually got Sam to admit that he and Gabriel had had just as eventful a weekend as Castiel had with Dean. Not that he’d actually tell him that…

He thought back to Friday night, remembering how overcome with emotions he’d been and how understanding Dean had been with him. It had been… intense. For both of them, actually. He was still a little embarrassed that he’d cried, but the older man had spent the next morning calmly reassuring him that he had nothing to be ashamed of. Neither of them had any way to anticipate what it was going to be like, with each other, that first time.

“What’s up, Cas?” Sam interrupted his thoughts.

Castiel almost shrugged it off. But he was curious. “What was it like?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Like?”

Cas rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I mean, what was it like for _you?_ Awkward? Intense?” His face heated up again. “I-I mean, I’ve _heard_ your first time can be overwhelming.” Embarrassment was beginning to rear its head again. “O-or, you know, boring,” he finished lamely, shrugging one shoulder awkwardly.

It was Sam’s turn to blush. “It was…” Cas could see him inwardly reliving the experience. “It was unlike anything I’d ever expected.” _‘You and me both,’_ Cas agreed inwardly.

“So, it was good?” Cas asked after removing the bacon from the oven.

Sam was setting plates and a mayonnaise jar on the table. “Yes,” he nodded with a small smile. “It was good.”

A similar smile graced his own lips. “Good.”

* * *

When they greeted Sam’s father, Reverend John Winchester, as they entered the church not long after, all Cas could think was _‘I spent the weekend having sex with your son’_ over and over again. He prayed it wasn’t written all over his face as they made their way through the pews to the spot at the front where the Winchesters typically sat. He noticed the cheeky grin his brother shot Sam as they walked by and shot a warning look at him. He was about to say something to Sam when the heat of Dean’s body settled next to him on the bench.

“Sammy,” Dean greeted before turning his attention to Cas. The smirk he shot him had Cas squirming in his seat. _“Cas,”_ he purred his name, making Castiel’s mind turn to naughty thoughts. _You’re in a church!_ His mind scolded him as he sat up straight and looked forward, his face heating up as Dean’s leg surreptitiously pressed against his just as the Reverend walked by to begin the sermon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Fun Facts Footnotes**
> 
>  
> 
> The Marine Corps Women's Reserve was formed 13 February 1943. Their minimum age for enlisting was 20.
> 
> If we use Gil McKinney's age around Season 7 as a baseline, Henry would've been somewhere around 33 in 1958. So, if Millie Winchester was 20 in 1943, and Henry was 33 in 1958, then Millie would be 2 years older than Henry.
> 
> The Discovery Channel did air a documentary titled "Secrets of the Valley of the Kings" sometime in December 2002 -- when this part of the story takes place.
> 
> "The Hot Chick" starring Rob Schneider and Anna Faris was released in theatres on Friday, December 13, 2002.
> 
> Jim Levenstein is the main character in "American Pie".
> 
> Monster Garage aired from 2002 - 2006.


	2. Chapter 2

They were acutely aware of each other’s body heat every time they sat next to each other in the front pew. It was torture, being so close and not being able to touch one another beyond the light press of their thighs. When Cas spent New Year’s Eve with Sam’s family after mass, they managed a few stolen kisses in the kitchen after midnight.

Over the weeks, Dean and Castiel exchanged a small series of decidedly naughty texts. When the new semester started and their classes changed at the end of January, Castiel ended up with a free block for his last class. While he probably should have used it to study in the library, more often than not he took advantage of the free hour to drop in on Dean in his garage. He found that he enjoyed watching the mechanic work. Occasionally, he’d let Dean teach him a thing or two about engines. The plus side to this was that the business was located right next to his house, so his visits always ended up with the grease-covered man locking up shop and pressing him up against the nearest flat surface, be it the old couch in his office, or his desk, or a wall, for quick blow job while fingering him open or mutual jerking off before Cas took a short shower to clean off the grease and semen and hurried back to school before Sam and his other friends got out of their last classes and noticed he wasn’t there.

Castiel was both looking forward to Spring break and wishing it were over already. Oddly enough, school being in session actually offered he and Dean more opportunity to get together without the chance of being caught. When they were on a holiday, Cas spent most of the time with his friends, which meant he spent most of it with Sam. On Monday morning, however, Sam texted Castiel to cancel their plans to hang out. Cas knew he hadn’t been well lately, and it appeared that it had become worse. Sam was sure it was just a flu.

Cas took the opportunity to text Dean.

 **C:** Sam’s sick 2day, r u bz?

Dean’s reply was quick.

 **D:** Gonna wrk on BB, nothn much

 **D:** U cummin over? =D

 **D:** Been 2 long, miss ur tight ass ;-)

Castiel blushed. It had been weeks since they’d had time for more than heavy petting. He smirked and typed a response.

 **C:** Miss ur thick cock

Dean’s reply took much longer this time.

 **D:** Shocked @ u! =O

 **D:** My innocent mind!

Cas snorted.

 **C:** Innocent my ass

 **D:** Ur ass exactly ;-)

 **D:** Can’t wait 2 slide my thick cock in2 ur tight lil ass :P

Cas’ pulse quickened in anticipation.

 **C:** I’ll BRT :-*

* * *

Their loud, gasping moans filled the room, punctuated by the squeaking of bedsprings and the sound of skin smacking on skin. One of Cas’ hands gripped the back of Dean’s head, the other on Dean’s shoulder, thighs tucked tight into Dean’s hips. The older man thrust up into him as he kneeled on mattress.

“ _Oh, go—Dean!_ Mmph. Jus— _ah!_ Just a little— _little_ —oh fuck, _yes!_ ” With a final roll of his hips, Castiel balls tightened and he ejaculated, hot and sticky, onto their abdomens. Dean leaned forward, lying him on his back and continued thrusting, increasing his pace until he came with a cursing shout, unloading into the latex condom that separated them. He pulled out and flopped onto his back beside Cas, both men sweaty and panting.

“Happy Birthday,” he chuckled before disposing of the condom.

Castiel arched his back to stretch. “Hmm, my birthday was two days ago.”

“Better late than never,” Dean huffed and rolled over until his was back on top of the freshly nineteen-year-old, elbows braced on either side of his head. “Hope you liked your present,” he grinned.

“I think you owe me another round for being late,” Cas grinned back. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and pulled him down for a long, languid kiss.

“Hmm, maybe I should let you rest up for a bit first,” he teased and trailed lazy kisses down the younger man’s jawline. They continued, light petting, until they dozed off, Cas’ head pillowed on Dean’s chest.

* * *

“So, what did you tell your parents you were doing if Sammy’s home sick?” Dean asked as he was giving Cas another lesson on engine repair. They were in his personal garage under Baby’s hood.

“I just said I was going to hang out with Meg for the morning. I texted her, she’ll cover for me no questions asked,” Cas shrugged and wiped his brow, smearing a bit of grease on his forehead. She’d probably ask at some point, but she’d have his back. “Then, if the weather was still nice, read in the park in the afternoon.”

“And if it rained?”

“I like to spend a lot of time at the library,” he said offhandedly as he leaned back over the engine. Dean loved seeing him like this. Sweaty and dirty with his hands on a fine piece of machinery. Especially when he bent over and his shirt rode up to reveal an inch of tanned skin. And when he looked back over his shoulder like he was doing now… well, he did owe him another round…

Dean was doubly turned on by the fact that he was still stretched out from that morning, pawing desperately at him. He loved it when Dean was covered in grease and grime and was surrounded in the heady scent of his profession. Some found the pungent aroma unpleasant, but it reminded him wholly of Dean.

“Dean, _please_ ,” he begged as Dean lubed up him up, making sure his ass was adequately stretched. “I need—” he gasped as the man pressed his finger against his prostate. _“Ah, Dean, now! Please!”_ He rode the fingers inside him as they kissed the air from each other.

Lightheaded and needy, they wasted no time as Cas lowered himself onto Dean’s lubed slicked cock, almost whining as he moaned into Dean’s mouth as his asshole was breached by the wide head of the man’s hard cock for the second time that day, in the backseat of the car they were working on. He couldn’t get enough of the way it stretched him out and filled him up. How it dragged along his prostate as they fucked at a frantic pace. He needed this, _yearned_ for it. From the first time, he was addicted.

A warmth pooled inside him when they’d climaxed and he knew he never wanted to lose this, lose Dean. He cared for this man. A lot more than he’d realized. All these years of convincing himself they hated each other, and now…

* * *

They came together one more time, slow and gentle, before he had to leave that evening. Neither would ever say it out loud, but it was perfect and pure and intense. Emotionally charged, like it was the first time. They made love like it would be the last. Not knowing when they’d get another opportunity to fully enjoy each other like this. They made out on the hood of his gold 78 Lincoln Continental until it was absolutely necessary that he head home before he missed dinner. If someone had told him three months ago that driving away from this man would be difficult he’d have scoffed. He took a calming, if shaky breath and pulled out of the two-car garage.

When his mother asked him how his day was, he just shrugged with a small smile and said “it was good”.

* * *

After Cas left, Dean went back down to his personal garage to tidy up, making a mental list of things he needed to pick up for the house. He needed coffee and flour and, hell he really needed to go grocery shopping sometime soon. Oh, and he definitely needed to pick up another box of condoms. He needed to keep a better eye on his stash, they’d already used the last one just now.

He couldn’t remember where he’d tossed the one from this afternoon. He figured it must’ve been in the garbage can in the garage, because it wasn’t in the backseat when he’d cleaned it out. After making sure Baby’s interior was taken care of, he set back to work under her hood, grinning as he thought about the way Cas looked whenever he was bent over her engine, brow furrowed as he concentrated on what he was doing. The last time he’d been anywhere near this content to watch someone working on a car had been Lisa Braeden in the eleventh grade. But he’d never let Lisa work on _his_ car…

* * *

A few evenings later, there was an unexpected knock on the Shurley’s door. To everyone’s surprise, Sam was there with a duffle bag. Castiel knew immediately that something was wrong. Later, after Sam had gone to bed, the conversation they’d had weighted on his mind.

“Hello?” Dean’s voice sounded tired over the phone. He probably had a long day at the garage.

“Sam's here,” he said without preamble.

“… okay?” His confusion was understandable. It wasn’t odd for Sam to be at the Shurley house. They’d been friends since kindergarten after all.

"Dean…" Cas paused, unsure how much he should divulge to the temperamental Winchester.

"Cas, what's wrong? …is Sam okay?"

Trust Dean to be able to figure out something was wrong. Cas wasn’t sure why he’d considered lying. Dean had always seen right through him. Especially when Sam was involved. He sighed. "He's fine… physically. Emotionally is another story."

“Cas, what's going on?” Cas hesitated. "Cas?"

"Your parents kicked him out."

"What!? _Why?_ " Now Dean’s voice was becoming agitated. Cas’ voice froze. "… Cas? What's going on? Talk to me."

He hesitated again, his pulse picking up. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell yo—"

"Castiel.” He flinched at Dean’s sudden use of his full name. “If you don't tell me now I'm going to drive my ass over there and—"

"Sam's pregnant," he blurted in a strangled voice. A heavy pause followed his admission. It continued long enough that Cas wondered if Dean had hung up. "… Dean? … Did you hear—"

"I heard."

There was a closed off quality to Dean’s voice. Cas’ heart was pounding. "… Dean?"

"Whose is it?"

Castiel wanted to tell him. He didn’t like keeping things from him. But… "D-Dean, I—"

"Cas,” Dean sighed. “ _Whose is it?_ Cas?"

"I promised," he breathed.

"What?"

"I promised not to tell."

Dean was silent. "… he wasn't…” he hesitated. “Y'know…?"

Cas was momentarily confused. "Wasn't…? Oh, _no_. No. It was completely consensual."

"Oh. O-okay, good. Good…” he breathed, relieved. “Do you know who it is?"

"I can't—"

"I know, you promised.” He obviously wasn’t happy about it, but he was being understanding. “I just want to know if you know who it is. I mean, is at least a decent guy?"

 _‘I wouldn't go that far.’_ Cas thought. He loved his older brother, but Gabriel could be trying at times. "Yes. I know him,” he replied. “And he was good to Sam."

Dean cleared his throat. "Good… Uh, good…"

"Are you angry?" Cas asked carefully.

"Angry?"

"At Sam."

"Why would— No. No, I'm not angry."

They lapsed into silence once more. Dean cleared his throat. "So…"

Cas exhaled. “Hmm… I'm going to hang up now."

"Right."

He grinned. "Goodnight, Dean."

Dean cleared his throat one more time. "'Night, Cas."

* * *

Dean was livid.

Not at his brother, he was completely in Sammy’s corner on this. Sure, he hated not knowing who it was that popped his brother’s cherry – he had no doubts that the guy was Sam’s first – but now that his bro was harbouring a little fugitive, he would do what he’s always done since their mom died and have his back.

No, he was livid at his father. On the one hand, it fit with the ass-backwards way of the world their hometown operated under. They were the sons of a local Reverend. Having children out of wedlock was still looked down on, but it wouldn’t kill his dad to be a tiny bit liberal minded. This was his grandchild for fuck sake, not the apocalypse.

Unable to sleep, he drove over to his Uncle Bobby’s place. Bobby Singer had been his father’s best friend growing up. Sometime after Mary died, the two became estranged but he’d still managed to stick around enough to be part of Dean and Sam’s lives. These days, he was the town sheriff. He found the grumpy old sheriff at his house sipping Johnny Walker with the undersheriff, a man even more crotchety than he was, Rufus Turner.

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean greeted. “Rufus.”

“What brings you here at this time of night, son?” Bobby grabbed a tumbler and poured him a small drink.

Dean sighed wearily and accepted the glass, taking a sip. He decided to treat it like a Band-Aid. “Sammy’s knocked up and Dad kicked him out.”

“Ah, hell. I always knew your ol’ man was a fool,” Bobby grumbled after a beat.

“Any idea who put your brother in a delicate condition?” Rufus asked gruffly. “Only ask so I know whose ass I’m draggin’ into the damn cellblock.”

“You couldn’t drag a cat three feet without a wheelbarrow,” Bobby snarked.

“Not if it’s Shabbat.”

“You and your—“

“Moving on!” Dean interrupted their spat before they got on a roll. Sometimes he wondered if the men were actually friends or if they were just the last remaining people they each put up with.

“Where is that boy, anyhow?”

“He’s over at the Shurley’s place for the night. He’s fine, for now. I’m gonna go talk to him in the morning. Let him know I’m in his corner.”

“Good,” Bobby nodded and refilled his glass. “And you ever find out who done it…”

“I won’t kill him,” Dean held up his hands. He ended up passing out on Bobby’s couch for the night.

* * *

In the morning, Dean drove over to the Shurley’s house just as they were starting breakfast. He entered the kitchen behind Rebecca and took in the people around the table, giving Cas a once over that had the brunet blushing. “Hey, Sammy.” His brother looked nervous as hell. They talked. He claimed he’d heard about it from Kate, their stepmother. He hadn’t, but he could just imagine what the woman would’ve said if he had called. He never did like her but he’d at least put in some effort when he was younger.

After they talked together, they talked with the Shurleys. Dean caved when they made sound arguments about Sammy being family and how he was welcome in their home for as long as he wanted to stay, so Sam would stay with them. They wouldn’t let Dean contribute to Sam’s room and board financially, but accepted his offer to work on their cars.

He grinned and looked at Cas with a glint in his eye. “I’ll even give Sunshine’s crappy Continental a go,” he said picturing the young man stretched out naked in the backseat of said car. His grin widened as the younger man blushed and diverted his eyes. He figured he was laying it on a bit thick when Sam elbowed him.

* * *

The second week after spring break, after being abandoned by the rest of his friends at school, Sam had made the acquaintance of two students in the library named Charlie and Kevin. Cas got along well with Charlie, even if he never understood the many references she made. He wasn’t sure about Kevin yet, the younger boy was often focusing intently on whatever book he was studying while simultaneously arguing with Charlie over something else he didn’t understand.

When it came to Sam’s first ultrasound, Dean had made a point to reschedule his appointments around it in order to be there with Castiel and his mother – who insisted on accompanying Sam to every appointment.

“Now, let’s see how far along you are,” the ultrasound technician, a fiery woman with an attitude Dean could respect named Pamela Barnes, said as she moved the wand over Sam’s abdomen. The guys had no idea what to expect when the image of the developing foetus was displayed on the screen. Dean was surprised when the discernible image of a tiny baby was visible. You could actually see the head and tiny legs and, as the image shifted, he could even see the itty bitty little arms forming. He cleared his throat, glad he hadn’t said any of that out loud. It may be his niece or nephew, but he had an image to maintain in front of his brother and his… whatever he and Cas were now. He wasn’t sure lover was the right word. It seemed a little too distant for his liking.

Pamela flipped a switch and the room was filled with a whooshing sound. _‘Holy crap,’_ he thought, _‘that’s a heartbeat…’_ He clasped a hand on Sam’s shoulder and watched his brother stare at the monitor with unmistakable love in his eyes. His own eyes stung. A glance at Cas showed he was in a similar state.

If some of the tears that had built up in his eyes spilled over as they watched the newest addition to the family moving on the screen, well, it’s not like the others were ones to judge.

* * *

It was late April and the rain had been pouring for days. Dean had just slid out from underneath a car when he was suddenly draped by a warm body. “Wha—“ His mouth was assaulted by insistent lips. “Cas, hey, where’s the fire,” he managed when the younger man trailed kisses down his neck.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said into his neck as he tugged at Dean’s coveralls.

“I thought you and Sammy watched movies on Fridays,” Dean said as he squeezed Cas’ pert ass with both hands, likely getting grease stains on the denim.

“He’s hanging out with his new friends tonight,” Cas said as removed his shirt and kissed Dean again.

“Mmm… that’s good, I’m happy for him,” he said against Cas’ lips, hands travelling up the exposed skin of his back. He chuckled as Cas nearly wrecked the zipper on his coveralls in his haste to get them open. “Someone’s eager.”

“Fuck, Dean, I need you.” His voice was thick with barely contained arousal. _“Now.”_

“You don’t gotta tell me twice,” Dean grinned.

“Apparently I do.” Cas tugged his Black Sabbath shirt over his head. “Now hurry up and fuck me.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I’m not complaining.”

“Oh, come on,” Cas whined. “Stop talking and get busy.” Dean laughed but complied, managing to convince his impatient lover to at least relocate to the crappy couch in his office.

While he was definitely happy that his brother had made new friends and no longer felt isolated, he was also thrilled at the amount of time it allowed for he and Cas to hook up. Before spring break, they were limited to quickies and stolen make out sessions. Lately, they were having hot, passionate, _loud_ sex four or five times a week. Cas was obviously just as thrilled, judging by how horny he was when they got within three feet of each other unsupervised… and bossy. It was hot. Dean particularly loved the commanding way he’d quirk his eyebrow as rode Dean like a bronco.

Dean dropped onto his back on the bed next to Cas with a satisfied groan. His lover sighing contently beside him. They were sweaty and out of breath. Dean might only be twenty-two, but the nineteen-year-old was beginning to wear him out. This was the third time this evening alone – the second had been on his kitchen table halfway through dinner and Cas had come untouched twice. He wasn’t complaining, but at the rate they were going, he was beginning to believe they were going to go through every condom in town.

After he’d disposed of the condom and laid back down, Cas rolled over and nestled into his side and he quit thinking. He just wrapped an arm around the warm body next to him and listened to the sound of the rain that continued to fall outside, completely content.

* * *

“I think I’m getting a bladder infection.”

“O-kay??” Sam looked at him, completely confused. They were sitting in the living room watching some documentary on Canadian serial killers that Sam had wanted to see.

“I feel like I constantly need to pee,” he groused, completely ignoring the look he received at his random declaration. “Like right now, for instance.”

“Great, now I have to go,” Sam snickered when he came back.

He ignored the television as he waited for his friend to return, rubbing his arms and attempting to take calming breaths. There was this constant _need_ building up under his skin. It built to the point that all he could think of was Dean and sex. All. The. Time. He’d been like this for weeks now. While they had been hooking up way more frequently lately, he didn’t think it was reason enough for his body to be constantly horny to the point of distraction. Meg was starting to comment. It only really abated when he was curled up next to Dean afterwards, surrounded in the smell of _Dean, Dean, Dean. ‘God, I really want to be having sex with Dean right now.’_

Sam exhaled loudly as he sat back down on the couch, interrupting Cas’ thoughts. “Baby’s really moving today.”

“What?”

“I said, the baby’s really moving.” Sam pursed his lips. “Are you okay? You’ve been really distracted lately.” He shrugged guiltily. “At least, when we actually get to spend time together. I _have_ sort of been spending a lot of time with Charlie and Kevin lately.” It was Cas’ turn to look apologetic. More often than not, when he wasn’t with Dean, he was hanging out with Meg and the rest of their friends.

“No, it’s alright. I’m happy you have new friends. And I apologize for not putting in more effort lately outside of school.” He glanced away. “I guess it’s just really dawning on me. We’re graduating.” He turned and pressed a hand to Sam’s slightly rounded stomach. “And you’re having a baby.” A small smile graced his face as the light movements of his niece or nephew shifted under his palm. Sam was still determined to keep the paternity a secret. His eyes unexpectedly started to burn.

“Cas, are you… are you _crying?_ ” Sam asked, startled.

“N-no,” Cas sniffed and scrubbed his face with both hands. “I- it’s just…”

“Gee, everything really is hitting you.” He offered gently with a sad smile of his own. “Everything is changing really fast, isn’t it?”

“I guess we should’ve sort of expected it. I mean, we’re nineteen and only have one more month left of high school.” Cas shrugged. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a downer.”

“It’s okay.” They both settled more comfortably on the couch. “It’s nice just spending time with you. I feel like we hardly see each other anymore.”

“Yeah, this is nice.” They continued to watch the documentary and after, when they decided on a movie marathon, ordered pizza – Cas, who usually stuck to the same basic cheese pizza with no sauce, insisting on adding green olives and fire-roasted tomatoes to his.

Later, when Castiel was getting dressed in his room after a shower, he paused when he caught sight of himself in his closet mirror. Where his nipples always that dark?? He touched them with his fingertips, surprised when they proved uncharacteristically tender. That wasn’t too odd lately, though it only really bothered him when Dean spent a little too much time lavishing attention on them and he hadn’t done that after Cas had flinched a couple weeks ago. Thinking about Dean brought back the rush of need in his core.

 _‘What is with me lately?’_ he thought as he finished getting dressed in pyjama pants and an old t-shirt.

He’d begun noticing things lately. Over the past couple months it was like something in his body was out of whack. Sex with Dean was always enjoyable, but for the last month or so he practically orgasmed when Dean so much as kissed him. His bladder had apparently shrunk to at least half its size, and earlier, when they’d ordered pizza, he suddenly had to have olives and tomatoes on his pizza. He never changed his order. He was the type of person who, once he found something he liked, refused to deviate from it. And now his chest was doing something weird. He kind or remembered Sam saying something about his nipples a few months ago but—

No.

_No._

There was no way.

There was no way _he_ could be pregnant. Yeah, he had the gene. He’d convinced his parents to get him tested for it when he was fourteen. But there was just no way. Dean _always_ used a condom. So no. No, he was thinking crazy. It was probably something else. Some sort of virus or bacterial infection, or whatever. There was no… there was no…

 _”Oh my god…”_ He tried to sit on his bed but ended up dropping to the floor next to it and put his head between his knees. He was hyperventilating. He had to calm down. Stress wasn’t good for the—“I’m _not_ pregnant. I-I can’t be. I _can’t_ be. I… Oh god, what’s Dean going to say?”

“Cas?” Sam’s muffled voice came through his door. “You okay?”

“Y-yes! I’m fine. I-I’ll be right down.”

“Alright, I’ll be downstairs.” They were going to watch another movie before heading to bed. Sam would probably fall asleep halfway through.

Cas took a calming breath and tried to reorganize his thoughts. Tomorrow, he’d pick up one of those at-home pregnancy tests and find out he was being silly for sure. Yeah. That sounded like a great idea.

* * *

It was a terrible idea.

Cas sat on the closed toilet lid staring at five positive tests. He couldn’t… he tried to remember a time, any time when they’d… He started noticing all his weird symptoms started sometime in April so, obviously it had to be before that, in March. So maybe… maybe…

_The car._

He thought back to that day that Sam had cancelled, before he knew he was pregnant. It had been quite a while since they’d last had sex before that day and they’d both been eager to make up for lost time. While working on the car, they’d both been so worked up that neither of them had noticed that something was different. Cas remembered the lingering feeling afterwards that he’d brushed off as him realizing that he was in lo— well, that wasn’t important right now. He wrung his hands, tears blurring his vision.

How was he going to tell Dean?

* * *

Dean could tell something was off. Cas responded as eagerly as he always did. Maybe even a little more desperately. But… something was different with him lately. He’d tried to ask him about it, but the younger man had simply brushed it off as pre-graduation jitters and the realization that this period of his life was coming to an end. Dean had accepted the explanation and they’d taken a nap with Cas spooned in front of him, but… He wondered.

Was Cas getting tired of him? Of all this sneaking around? Maybe that’s the conversation they should have. But… what if he _was_ getting tired of Dean?

Honestly, Dean wouldn’t blame him. He was just a mechanic in a backwards town that dared call itself a city. Cas was just entering the stage of life where he probably wanted to go out into the world like all his older siblings had. Lucille and Michelle hadn’t come back once they’d left and it didn’t look like Gabriel would either. He probably wanted something more than a guy who was never going to leave this place. He deserved better.

But, until then… He looked down to where Cas slept on his chest and hugged him closer. He’d hold on with both hands until then. And if then ever happened… he’d deal with the broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Fun Fact Footnotes:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> As this takes place in 2003, I don't believe the word "sexting" existed yet.
> 
> I tried to make the old style texting realistic here. From what I can remember, full keyboards either hadn't come out yet, or were still brand new in 2002/2003.


	3. Chapter 3

“That son of a bitch!”

Dean slammed the door shut behind him as he stormed into Bobby’s house one evening. He’d been fuming all afternoon. Ever since he’d driven away from the Shurley home after Sammy had let it slip.

They’d finally managed to find out the gender of Sam’s baby at today’s ultrasound. When he’d driven them all back to the house, his brother had just sort of blurted it out. And, for some reason, the big moose insisted on not telling the annoying ball of energy about his impending fatherhood. At least for now. Dean didn’t like it, but it was Sam’s choice. He wasn’t going to keep it under wraps forever, just a little longer.

“Who the hell crammed a bug up your ass?” Bobby said as a greeting. He and Rufus were playing chess.

“Gabriel Shurley,” Dean ground out as he cracked open a can of beer and took a hearty gulp.

“What’s that troublemaker done now?” Rufus asked as he took one of Bobby’s rooks.

“Knocked up my brother,” Dean said and dropped into a seat at the table.

“Are you sure?” Bobby asked as Rufus grunted, oddly pleased.

“Of course I’m sure,” Dean frowned. “Sam said so himself. I trust him not to lie about it.”

“Dammit.” Dean watched incredulously as the old man took out his wallet and crossly slapped a fifty on the table.

“I hate to say I told you so,” Rufus said as he pocketed the cash, a wide grin on his face.

“No you don’t,” Bobby groused and took Rufus’ last knight. He finished his glass of whisky and poured another.

“What the hell!?” Dean exclaimed. “You _bet_ on this?”

“Course we did,” Rufus replied and moved a castle. “Check. It wasn’t that hard to figure it out.”

“You know Sam,” Bobby said and used his queen to take the offending castle. “He’s not the type to go with just anybody. Could only be one of a short list of boys he’d go with. My money was on that friend of his, the one that stuck by him when everyone else turned their backs.”

Dean choked on his beer. _“Cas!?”_

“Why the hell not? Boys’ve been practically sew at the hip since they were knee-high to a pig’s ass.”

Dean gaped like a fish, scrambling for an explanation as his face heated up. “Jus—just _cause_ ,” he said testily and took another gulp of his beer and picked at a threat in his jeans. He missed the way the older men’s eyes narrowed at him, cogs turning in their heads.

“So, how’d your brother’s appointment go?” Bobby changed the subject, taking Rufus’ queen at the same time.

Dean grinned as he remembered earlier. “Sammy’s havin’ a girl.” He chuckled. “I’m gonna be an uncle…”

“That just sinking into your thick skull?”

“Shut up.”

* * *

Dean heard from Rufus early a few mornings later that Gabriel Shurley had been in jail for the night. Part of him felt bad.

Hearing that Gabe got pulled over in his crap 77 Camaro, well… he honestly didn’t feel as bad as he probably should have. He sort of deserved just for that eyesore of a car alone. Now if it was the 69 Camaro it’d be a different story… maybe. Well, at least he’d be able to respect the guy a little better. He swore, the Shurley’s had terrible taste in cars.He was sitting at the kitchen table finishing off his morning coffee when there was a knock at the door.

“Hey Cas,” he grinned seeing the young man who had captured his heart long before he’d even realized it was up for grabs.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. Cas had a look in his eye and it didn’t bode well for him. “Why don’t you come inside? You want a cup of coffee?”

“Um… n-no. Thank you.” He followed Dean into the living room anxiously.

“So…” A long, awkward silence stretched between them.

“So… Gabriel’s back in town,” Cas offered with false cheer.

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, I, uh. I heard.” Another long pause. When was the last time it was this awkward with them?

“Dean, I…” Cas swallowed hard. “I…” Dean’s heart clenched. Cas looked like he was about to cry.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Despite his resignation to their impeding break-up, he wrapped his arms around the distraught man’s waist and pulled him close. He tried to ignore the happiness that bubbled up inside him when Cas clung to him. “Tell me.”

“Dean, I’m…” He hid his face in Dean’s neck. “I-I’m…” He squeezed his arms around the older man’s strong frame and choked out in a small voice “I’m pregnant.”

Dean’s brain stalled. _What?_

“It’s yours.”

Dean pulled back enough to look at Cas’ face. As if that had even been in question. Given the sheer amount of sex as they’d been having, the possibility of a condom failing or them even forgetting about it all together wasn’t all that surprising. Not with how intense it was with them. “Of course it’s mine,” he said a little harshly. Cas flinched.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I realize this isn’t what you wanted, but—” Dean kissed him, effectively cutting off whatever ‘buts’ he came up with.

“Marry me.”

It was Cas’ turn to be stunned. “What?”

“I love you, Cas,” Dean said and cradled his face in his hands, brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “This is a pretty big friggin’ shock, yeah. But,” he huffed and grinned, “we’re having a baby.”

Cas gave him a watery grin. “Yeah. We are.”

“Holy shit.” Dean swayed and stepped back, dropping onto the nearby couch. “Holy shit.” He looked back up at Cas, stunned expression as it fully hit him. “I’m going to be a dad,” he laughed a little hysterically. He stood back up and gathered Cas into his arms. “I’m going to be a dad!” He shouted and kissed him soundly.

They stood in the living room, foreheads pressed together, Dean’s hands on either side of Cas’ abdomen. Basking in each other’s presence.

“Here I thought you were gonna break up with me.”

Cas scoffed. “You’re so dramatic.”

Dean stood up straight. “Oh, _I’m_ dramatic? Excuse you, but which of us was it that lost his shit over a damned bee documentary?”

“Excuse _you_ , but which of us was it that lost _his_ shit over someone putting decals on their own car?” Cas crossed his arms and pulled away.

“It was a Decepticon decal on a yellow VW Bug!” Dean threw his arms up.

“ _Why_ is _that_ important!?”

_“It just is!”_

Cas let out a frustrated noise. “Why do I want to marry you again?”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “You want to marry me?”

Cas blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, well…”

Dean grinned. “You so wanna marry me.”

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”

“I’m your idiot.” He pulled Cas close to him and did as he was told. “I think I better have a talk with your parents,” he said against Cas’ lips. “Where are they today?”

“Actually, they’re with _your_ parents at the moment.”

“What? _Why?_ ”

“Apparently Gabriel had the same idea about Sam.”

Dean laced their fingers together. “Well, we may as well go make it a party.”

Cas frowned. “I don’t see how that’s a party.”

* * *

They could hear Gabriel’s terse voice as they walked in the front door of the Winchester house. “I love your son and that’s my bun in his oven. I’m only dong what I know is right.”

Dean could’ve laughed at the stunned look on his father’s face. Instead, he squeezed Cas’ hands, which were both clinging to his, reassuringly and cleared his throat. Everyone in the living room turned to face him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Shurley,” he began. “I believe I have something to discuss with you.”

\- 30 -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Fun Fact Footnote:**
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> Shoutout to Sauric who critiqued my car choice for Gabriel in "Knocked Up".


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